16. Colt

Colt

H oly fuck, that was the hottest thing I've ever done. Ever seen. When Dallas comes, it's like this whole new experience. It's euphoric just to watch him. Someone who has held back for so long finally letting go. It's a beautiful sight.

And I have absolutely no shame about begging him to stay. I take his hand, still feeling relieved he agreed to stay a little longer and lead him naked into my bathroom.

"Shower?" I ask, my eyes still roaming over his gorgeous body, watching his dick respond to my perusal. I should probably give him a little break, but I can't help pulling him to me and kissing him hard until we're both writhing breathlessly together just inside my bathroom.

"Yes," he says, and it takes me a moment to realize he's talking about the shower. I try to slow my rapid breathing and let go of him long enough to turn on the water, letting it warm up before I pull him inside with me, both of our bodies getting some of the spray.

We kiss as we soap up our hands and wash each other slowly. I let my hands glide over every single inch of his skin. I'm enamored with him. In total awe of his strength and beauty.

It's not long before I'm wrapping my hand around both our cocks and bringing us to another orgasm, which is just as intense, if not more so, than the last one. "You're so fucking perfect," I say against his lips as I rinse him off and hold onto him.

He shakes his head like he doesn't believe me, and that's okay. He doesn't have to yet. I'm going to show him. We dry off, but instead of getting dressed again, I urge him to my bed. I know he has to leave soon, but I just want to lie with him a little longer.

I climb under the covers and lie on my back, lifting it up and letting him climb in too, his head resting on my chest as I cradle him to me. We stay in calm silence for a while as I slide my hand up and down his arm, feeling every bump of defined muscle as he rests his hand over my chest.

"I don't think I'm bi," he says softly, his breath fanning over my naked chest.

"Okay," I say, knowing I need to tread lightly. This is so new to him. Even the fact that bisexuals exist is still new to him, so I don't want to push him too hard to define himself. I don't need him to do that, but I do wait for him to continue to process out loud.

"I always knew I thought guys were attractive." His finger runs over my skin, and I know it's a nervous habit. He's trying to distract himself a little from the words he's saying. "But I pushed it away. I listened to my parents say how wrong it was when we'd see a gay couple on television. I knew I needed to hide that, or they'd hate me."

I realize I'm holding him pretty tightly now, wanting to keep him safe. Hating his parents even more. "I'm sorry, Dallas." It's really all I can say because it's not right. He shouldn't have had to feel that way, but I know that feeling.

"I thought maybe I could like girls too. That I could just try. I'd look at them, and of course, I could tell they were pretty... and nice... and funny, but..."

"You didn't want to kiss them," I supply with a smile, hoping to keep it kind of light for him.

It works because I can feel him smile against my skin. "No. I didn't." After another moment, he starts, "With Chloe..." and I stiffen at the mention of my sister, and he stops talking. He lifts up on his elbow and looks down at me. "I'm sorry."

"No," I say, still feeling the tension but not wanting to scare him off. "You can tell me anything." I reach up and swipe my hand over his cheek, cupping it. "Just maybe, uh... not a ton of details."

There's a hint of a smile on his lips, and I tug him back down to lay his head on my chest, tucked in safe to my body where he belongs. "I'd tried to, um..." He squeezes me a little tighter as he clings to my side, and I hug him to me.

"It's okay. There's nothing you can't tell me. I promise you, you're safe with me."

I can feel his finger trailing along my chest again and hear him take a deep breath and release it. "I'd tried to, um... with myself..."

I nod my head in acknowledgment and help him out. "Come?"

He nods against me. "Yes." I close my eyes, hating this for him. Hating what he's telling me. "I couldn't. Like ever. I'd get really close, but..." He's starting to tremble a little, and all I can do is hold onto him. "Then I'd hear them telling me how wrong it was. How it was a sin. And I'd stop every time. I gave up."

I just smooth my hand over his arm, wanting to provide him comfort. But I'm not sure what to say. I hid my sexuality for a while, but when I was alone, I found release every single time. I never had to hide from my own mind like that, and it's not fucking fair.

"I just wanted to be normal. Feel normal. For a little bit. I don't know how I wound up at that party. I don't know how I wound up with Chloe." He's shaking even more now, and I want to tell him he doesn't have to keep going. That I understand, but I know this is more for him.

He needs to say this, so I remain quiet.

"I don't understand how I managed to come with her." I cringe a little because—my sister—but I also can hear the despair in his voice, and it pulls me from that.

"What do you mean?"

I pull him up a little so I can see him, but I still have my arm around him, still holding him close. "I couldn't come. Not even with my own goddamn hand, and then I did with her. Apparently. If you think I'm..." He looks so damn tortured, I just want to kiss it away. Take away all his pain, but I know I can't. "If you think I'm the father, then I must have, right?"

"You don't remember?"

He shakes his head dejectedly. "No. I don't remember much of that night. As soon as I got there, I was certain they'd recognize me as the enemy and kick my ass, but they didn't. I drank, and I drank, and I drank so much, I could barely walk. When I woke up the next day, I'd passed out in the grass near my truck. I just got up, got in my truck, and hauled ass out of there, but some memories hit me out of nowhere over the next couple of days."

I knew they were both drunk. Chloe confirmed that, but I still hate to hear this. That they were both just so damn out of it. Both needing something that night.

"The one time I came, and I can't even remember it, and it was with..." He sucks in a sharp breath and then sobs.

"A woman," I say, trying to soothe him with my hand on his back. "It's okay. I know you were both insanely drunk."

"She didn't deserve that," he sobs again, clinging onto me. "I don't know her, but I know that no one deserves to be used like that." He sounds so damn heartbroken. How the hell do I take this away? How do I make it any better?

"Neither of you deserved what happened."

He sniffs and lifts his head to look at me. "I used her. I was angry and frustrated because I had to hide, and everyone at school already hated me for what happened with the coach, and I just used her like she was nothing. I'm a freak, Colt. I couldn't come with my own hand and then drank my body weight in whiskey and used your sister. I ruined her life."

"No." I can't let him keep going on like this. "You didn't."

"She got pregnant because of me," he says defiantly, agony radiating through his gaze.

"Dallas..." I shake my head, but he's trying to scramble and get off my bed. I sit up and grab his arm gently, hoping to keep him here, but I won't do it if he wants to really go. Thankfully, he stops. Sitting there naked on my bed, his shoulders slumped. "She got pregnant because of a drunken, high-school-party hookup. You were both there. She's told me several times you didn't hurt her. That it was stupid—" He flinches and looks away, but I reach out and grip his chin, gently forcing him to look at me. "But that it was consensual. That you were both in it for all the five seconds it took."

He scrunches up his face at that, and I grin, unable to resist the little jab, hoping to lighten the mood a little. Desperate to have him back in my arms. "So not only did I come, I came fast."

I sigh and release his chin but pull him back to me. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters. It wasn't about love or even sex. I think you both just needed something that night. You found each other."

He holds onto me, sniffling a little with his arms wrapped around my shoulders. "I'm sorry, Colt. I'm so damn sorry. I didn't mean to hurt her or anyone."

I hold onto him, my fingers running through his hair. "Dallas." I sigh deeply. "I know that. I knew that the second I saw you, even if I couldn't say it. I felt it. Right then. That you were a good person."

"I'm sorry," he says it again, and my heart just breaks even more for him.

"I left her." I feel him stiffen, and my heart squeezes in my chest. Hard. Because the guilt is running rampant inside me now. "I had to get out of Kensley. I couldn't take it anymore. All the looks. The glances. The stupid-ass comments about me liking guys like it was some sort of joke. I turned eighteen, graduated, and left. She was fourteen, and I was her only person. The only one she'd ever relied on, and I left her."

He pulls back enough to look at me through his wet eyes. "What?"

I feel like I'm going to throw up. I hated myself for leaving her, but I still did it. "I left, Dallas. I left, and then she just struggled. Nonstop. Just looking for someone to love her. So if you're going to blame anyone for that night, blame me."

He starts shaking his head and wipes at his eyes. "No. It's not your fault. Of course you had to get out of there. I would. I am." He says it with so much determination, I momentarily feel happy, just thinking about Dallas getting out of this hell.

"It's my fault. I tried to check in with her daily, but I could feel how sad she was. How lonely. And I didn't come back."

"But you did," he points out, and I smile and shake my head.

"No. I came back because she sounded defeated and alone and had a baby, but I'm not really back. I wanted to fix things. I wanted to make sure she was okay, but..." I shake my head, feeling like a total asshole. "I was always going to leave. I can't stand to be here."

He nods his head and wipes his face again. "I don't blame you."

I know he doesn't. I can feel it. "Then you can't blame yourself."

I can see him thinking about it, and I'm hoping just once, he'll really think about how innocent he is. How good. How he should have been loved and protected, and his family and town failed him.

"I'm not bi," he says slowly, and okay... I wait for him to say more, and he does. "I'm gay." My eyebrows shoot up because I didn't see that coming. I mean him actually saying it.

"Okay," I say slowly, waiting for him to say more. To maybe freak out a little bit. I'll be here to hold him as he does.

But the most gorgeous smile I've ever seen graces his beautiful face, and he lets out the softest laugh. "I'm gay."

I can't help smiling back at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he says and then leans forward and presses a hard kiss against my mouth. "So gay."

"So damn beautiful," I say against his lips and kiss him hard.

He shakes his head, but keeps kissing me, pulling me down onto the bed as we both lie on our sides and kiss softly. I still feel guilt when I think about leaving my sister the way I did. And I know he still feels a ton of guilt too, but for this moment, we seem to just let ourselves be a little free.

And I'm pretty sure I'm losing even more of my heart to this man in my arms. I'm not sure how the hell I'm going to leave this time. But I don't know how I can stay either.